


dream of some epiphany

by Stella959



Series: moving on [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (mostly), Afterlife, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Gen, death & dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25481860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella959/pseuds/Stella959
Summary: Katara remembers Aunt Wu's predictions a few times throughout her life.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Series: moving on [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845910
Comments: 5
Kudos: 74





	dream of some epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _epiphany_ by Taylor Swift. If you’re one of those people who like to listen to music while reading, Taylor Swift’s album _folklore_ was instrumental to helping me finish this, and I think is a pretty good fit for the overall tone for this fic.
> 
> Spoilers for the end of Avatar and also Legend of Korra, so turn around now if that's not cool with you. Spiritual sequel to _they say you can't go home again_ , though you don't really have to read it first for this to make sense.

When Katara first heard Aunt Wu’s prediction, she had been deep in her brief obsession with the fortune-teller. Between the volcano explosion and their race against time to the North Pole, she quickly buried it in the back of her mind, knowing she had bigger things to focus on after they arrived at the Northern Water Tribe. 

As they made their way into the height of the war, first (temporarily) losing Appa and then almost (permanently) losing Aang, she clung tight to the thought that she might live long enough to have kids one day, let alone grandkids and great grandkids. 

After the war, between balancing rebuilding efforts across four nations (and a fledgling republic) and her personal life, the fortune went again to the back of her mind, forgotten for years. It wasn’t until the morning after their wedding that she sat bolt upright in bed and said, “Aunt Wu was right!” 

“Aunt who was right about what?” Aang mumbled from beside her in the bed, awoken more by her jostling than her shout. He was curled around space in the bed that Katara had just vacated, and when she settled back down into her spot he wrapped his arm around her middle.

“Aunt Wu,” Katara explained. “That fortune-teller from the village with the volcano that we diverted in the year before the comet?”

“Makapu,” Aang supplied. “We haven’t been in a while, we should go back and visit. They had great cloudbending.

“Right,” Katara said gently. “Anyway, she said I would have a great romance with a powerful bender, and I think she might just have been right.” She kissed Aang on the top of his head, and he reached down to pull the quilt up over them both.

“I know, I was eavesdropping during that part,” Aang confessed, only half embarrassed. “I was already so in love with you, and that was the best news I’d had since figuring out that Bumi was still alive.”

“You know,” Katara said, “I went back later that afternoon to hear more. I was so obsessed!” She laughed, remembering the day fondly. Aang had only been awake for a few weeks at that point, and none of them had had any idea of what lay ahead. “She even told me that I would live to a great age, and would pass quietly in my sleep after my third great-grandchild.”

“Great-grandkids, huh?” Aang asked, finally awake. “I guess we better get started?” 

Katara laughed again and he kissed her, gently on the lips, and then on her cheek, then down her neck, trailing kisses down her chest and stomach. And then, well, then they didn’t leave the bed for a long time after.

###

Katara remembered the prediction again, apropos of nothing, in what they all knew were to be Aang’s final days.

He had been moving slowly for a while, and there was nothing her waterbending healing could do to help him. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, but nonetheless not anything she had expected to feel from Aang for a very long time. 

She had spent time in both the Southern Water Tribe and Republic City with those at the end of their life, with both the elderly and those who fell victim to a more sudden end. In every case death was something that a talented healer could feel coming, something to guide her patients toward as painlessly as possible when there was nothing else to be done. She recognized the signs in Aang early enough to gather their family and friends close together, and to tell Sokka to send word to the Northern and Southern Water Tribes of what was to come. 

She remembered Aunt Wu’s words while standing in a garden on Air Temple Island, looking across the bay at the city they had built together. Aang was next to her, sitting on the stone bench that Toph had bent for them when Aang had declared that he was tired of being cooped up inside with everyone waiting for him to die, and that he’d like some fresh air, now please. They’d walked as far as he could, he and Katara arm in arm, and then Toph had made the bench when they paused to admire the view. She’d left after announcing that it looked just like every other corner of the island to her, and that she’d be inside if they needed her.

In those final days Aang found solace in the four elements: the wind on his face, sunlight on his skin, water lapping at his ankles, and dirt between his toes (Toph, of course, was thrilled that he had finally come around on joining her in her barefoot ways). They spent as much time outside as he could muster the energy for; bending took a lot out of him, but even so he couldn’t quite stop playing with the elements in the same small ways he had when he’d been first learning them. 

Katara felt a breeze pulling her over toward him and away from his pensive thoughts, and saw Aang’s hand beckoning both her and the wind his way.

"Copper for your thoughts?” Aang asked, and she settled down next to him on the smooth stone bench. 

“Do you remember when we went to Makapu village, in that first mad dash to the North Pole after you woke up?” 

Aang hummed. “The village with the volcano and the fortune-teller, right?”

“She said I would have a great romance with a powerful bender,” she smiled, “and I think we hit the mark on both accounts.” 

“Didn’t she say something about great-grandkids, too?” Aang laughed. “At the rate our kids are moving, it might be another sixty years before you get to meet them.”

_ Before  _ you _ get to meet them.  _ It took Katara’s breath away, to think of living so long without him (if she even lived that long, if the fortune-teller had been right). And great-grandkids seemed so far removed from where they were right now, with their three children grown but Tenzin the only one in anything resembling a serious relationship. 

Until the last few months, when Aang had first started to complain of aches and a distinct lack of energy, she had always imagined that Aang would live be one of the long-lived Avatars like Kyoshi and Yangchen, and not one whose life ended tragically like Kuruk or Roku. But what ailed him was something beyond her abilities as a healer, and all she could do was be by his side. 

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, Aang.” They’d grown up together, saved the world together, and then had a family together (while still occasionally trying to save the world). So much of her life had been spent next to him that she wasn’t sure she remembered how to stand by herself anymore.

When Aunt Wu had told her that she would live to see her third great-grandchild, Katara had always taken it as a given that Aang would be right there next to her every step of the way. It had never occurred to her that she might spend so much of that time without him. And yet, Aang had been living on borrowed time since the first day they met, and now that time was almost up.

“You’ll do what you always do, Katara,” Aang said. He gingerly put his arm around her and pulled her into his chest, and she lay her head there against his soft orange and yellow robes. “You’ll be sad, and you’ll miss me, but life will go on at the same time. You’ll have the kids, and if any of them ever figure themselves out they might have kids at some point, too; either way, they’ll keep you busy. And when you feel just totally overwhelmed you’ll have Sokka, and Toph, and Zuko there to help you pick up the pieces and figure out what’s next.” 

She hugged him, too choked up to know what to say after that. Tears came unbidden to her eyes, and despite her best efforts to stifle them they ran down her face. She heard Aang sniffle, and she knew he was crying, too. They’d all cried so much in the last few days, and Katara knew they weren’t quite done yet. 

“And when you find the next Avatar,” Aang said softly, “Every time you look at them you’ll know I’m there, every bit as in love with you as I am right now, and have been since the day I met you.”

That set Katara off crying again, and she laughed even as the tears she couldn’t stop streamed down her face. “You are a hopeless romantic, and I love you so much, Aang.”

“I love you too, Katara,” he said, and he kissed the top of her head. 

They stayed like that for a long time, until the sun had set behind them and all they could see of the city were the twinkling lights across the bay.

###

It was at the party to celebrate Katara’s one hundred and twelfth birthday that her fate became apparent. Her birthdays had become something of an annual family reunion, her children and grandchildren (and two great-grandchildren) coming together at least once a year to celebrate and catch up during a break from their busy lives.

Rohan approached her at the tail end of the night, hand in hand with Eun, the sweet earthbending girl he’d been seeing almost since Katara’s last birthday. They weren’t married yet, though Pema had confided in her the day before that he’d been considering proposing. 

“Happy birthday, Gran-Gran Katara!” he said, as if he hadn’t already wished her a happy birthday a half dozen times that night. He was so full of happiness and energy that even in his mid-twenties she wasn’t sure he’d ever settle down. 

She thanked him, as she had each time someone had wished her well that night, then asked, “What brings you two over here so late?” 

“We wanted to let you know that we had a birthday surprise for you,” Rohan started, already grinning from ear to ear, and oh,  _ that’s _ what had had Tenzin in such a state all night.

Katara smiled and reached out to take Eun’s hands into hers. “Congratulations to the two of you! How far along are you?” 

“Eun is -- wait, how did you know!?”

“At my age, there’s only a few true surprises left in life,” Katara smiled. “And of those, one could have you this happy.”

Rohan smacked his forehead, in a move reminiscent of Sokka. “Tui and  _ La, _ Mom was  _ right _ . You really  _ are _ psychic when it comes to babies.”

“Well, that and the fact that I haven’t seen your father like this since the first time Jinora was pregnant.” They all laughed at that, recognizing the parallels between the range of emotions Tenzin had had both then and tonight. 

“I’m six months along,” Eun said, answering her question from earlier after they’d had their laugh. “Tenzin and Pema seemed to take it… well? When we told them? Even though we’re not married yet.”

“They’re happy that you’re happy,” Katara explained. “And I’m happy too! Babies are always such a happy occasion."

“Thanks, Gran-Gran Katara,” Rohan said, and Eun thanked her too before they left to return to mingle with what was left of the party. 

Eun was pregnant, and Katara had meant it when she had said that she was happy for them. Ever since the Harmonic Convergence and the sudden re-emergence of airbenders, the pressure had been off Tenzin and his family to single-handedly repopulate the world with airbenders. Katara loved having a large family, though, and was always happy for it to grow a little more. Rohan and Eun’s baby would be her third great-grandchild, though, and if Aunt Wu’s predictions continued to hold true then she knew what was coming next. 

The irony of it all didn’t hit her until later that night. Aang had technically been a hundred and twelve years old when they first met and now here she was, contemplating the end of her life at the same age he’d been when he’d had almost his whole life ahead of him. On her hundredth birthday she had wept at the thought that Sozin’s War had lasted for as many years as she’d been alive, but she had held it together for several years after that. At one hundred and eight, it had been one hundred years since her mother died, who was now no more than a few faded memories from the scant years they had together. But now at one hundred and twelve she saw the end rapidly approaching, slower than Aang’s had come but faster than she had anticipated, even after all this time.

Three months later it was early spring at the South Pole when Kya passed along the news that Eun had given birth to a healthy baby girl they’d named Ori. Katara smiled and thanked her, and took a long, deep breath after Kya left. Kya was worried about her, she knew, though Kya didn’t know just how worried she should be. The last time Jinora had written she’d told Katara that she was pregnant again and due in the fall with what would be Katara’s fourth great-grandchild. But so far everything Aunt Wu had said had come true, and Katara knew in her heart of hearts that the Spirits would be calling her home before that child would be born.]

A week later a blizzard overtook the main city of the Southern Water tribe, the likes of which hadn’t been seen this late in the season in decades. It stormed for days and days without pause, sun and moon passing overhead almost interchangeably. It was late in the night, after Katara was already curled up in her bed, that the storm finally subsided. She awoke to the sudden quiet, the silence jarring after days of howling winds. The full moon illuminated her room through the window, and it was in that bright light that Katara saw her.

“Hello, Yue.” 

“Hello, Katara.” Yue looked exactly the same as she had the last time Katara had seen her, at the Spirit Oasis during the Siege of the North. Her hair fluttered in a breeze that wasn’t there, and she radiated peace and calm. 

“It’s time, isn’t it?” 

Katara sat up, and she felt it. The aches and pains she had gone to sleep with were gone, and when she took a deep breath she knew that no lungs filled and no heart thrummed back in response. She looked back down at her pillows and took in the sight of her own face, eyes closed for the last time. 

“You’re not surprised,” Yue stated, not quite a question.

“I had it on good authority that my time was coming,” Katara said. “Though I am a little surprised to see you here, now.”

“Not everyone gets a Spirit Guide into the afterlife,” Yue agreed. “But we Spirits often make a point to accompany our friends.”

A younger Katara might have teared up then, at the thought of their brief and tragic friendship. But time had made Yue’s passing and ascension hurt less, so she just smiled back.

“And as it happens,” Yue continued, “You made quite the impression on a great number of other spirits, as well, who I believe would have come in my stead if I hadn’t expressed interest. The Painted Lady, in particular, says hello.”

Katara chuckled at the memory. “I’ve a few regrets in my life, but impersonating a benevolent river spirit is definitely not one of them.”

“I hope those regrets do not weigh on your conscience,” Yue said, extending her hand.

Katara took it. “Not enough to be heavy,” she said. “Just enough to keep me grounded every time the kids try to get me to tell those wild stories that don’t even seem real anymore.” Like every time they’d come away from an interaction with the spirits relatively unscathed, or any of the close calls they’d had during the war.

“And what a life you’ve lived,” Yue said, almost as if she’d read her mind. She pulled Katara to her feet, and looked her squarely in the eyes. “From being the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe to matriarch of an entire nation, a founder of cities and waterbending master of two Avatars. You have had a long and rich life, Katara, and it is my honor to accompany you now.” 

“Let’s get on with it then, shall we?” Katara looped her arm through Yue’s, though she didn’t need to lean on the young spirit the way she used to. Instead she stood up straight, and thought about everyone who had preceded her in death, which at this point was everyone she had grown up with. 

For the longest time it had been just her and Toph and Zuko, sporadically trading letters (mostly with Toph, after she’d returned to civilization from her stint in the swamp) and occasionally visiting in person (usually with Zuko). Then, one day Zuko’s dragon had arrived at the South Pole with a short message from Izumi tied to one of his horns. Then, two years later Lin Beifong arrived on Oogi looking absolutely stricken. And then it was just her, never alone but sometimes a little lonely, missing being able to reminisce with those who had actually been there, and not just her kids and theirs. 

Katara allowed herself to think, briefly, of what it would be like to reunite with Aang after all this time, but she knew that was not her destiny, nor his. An Avatar’s job was never done, and she had long since made peace with the fact that he would have to stay on as a Spirit Guide to Korra and the Avatars after her. She’d had more than fifty years with him on this earth, and that would have to be enough.

The room faded around her as she was lost in her thoughts, a nd then quite suddenly, Katara was Somewhere Else.

She stood outside their home on Air Temple Island, as it had been shortly after Kya was born. Yue stood beside her still, though more faint than she had been in the human world. 

“This is it?” Katara asked, turning to face the spirit again after taking in her surroundings.

“This is it,” Yue confirmed. “This is it, and so much more. I wish you well, Katara.”

Katara blinked, and Yue was gone.

She stood alone on the island, the breeze playing gently with her hair as she inhaled deeply. She’d always loved the way the island smelled of moon peaches in the summers, and she was surprised to find the familiar scent on the breeze. She turned to follow the smell, toward the gardens on the east side of the island the small copse of moon peach trees she and Aang had planted there so long ago.

Katara followed the well-worn path to the garden, only to stop in her tracks when she turned the corner and saw the bench that Toph had bent at the edge of the garden looking out over the bay. 

It wasn’t the bench that made her stop, so much as the man sitting in it. 

She stood, frozen in disbelief, and though she didn’t make a sound the man stood up and turned to her, his yellow collar flapping in the wind.

“Aang!” 

She ran to him, and he to her, and they embraced. She didn’t know how he was here, or why, but in that moment none of it mattered. She didn’t know if anyone else was here, or even where  _ here _ was, and while she was already forming the questions in her head that she would ask him later, all of that could wait. Because right now Aang was here in her arms, and she hugged him so tight she thought she might never let go. 

###

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I wrote this intending this to be the intro to a much longer fic, but pretty much the next day realized it wasn’t a good thematic match for that longer fic. That said, I also realized that it fits nicely as a second part to _you can’t go home again_ , so here we are. It gave me all the feels while writing, and I hope I managed to convey at least a few of those by the end of it. Comments are always welcome and appreciated :)


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